Edward & Bella - Till Death Do Us Part
by RobinBrooks
Summary: Edward Cullen is a very rich university fratboy who meets struggllng young Bella. Edward falls for the poor college girl, despite his parents warning. ALL HUMAN
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One - Story written in Edward's perspective

* * *

Edward: Stupid & rich, Bella: clever & poor

* * *

What can you say about a beautiful twenty-five-year-old girl

who is gone forever?

You can say that she was wonderful and intelligent.

She loved Mozart and Bach and the Beatles. And me.

Once, when she told me that, I asked her who came first.

'Alphabetically', she answered, smiling, ''Like in the ABC's.'

I smiled too. But now I wonder.

Was she talking about my first name? If she was, I came next to last.

Right before Mozart. Or _did _she mean my last name? If she did,

I still came in next to last. But I still didn't come first.

That worries me terribly now. You see, I always had

to be Number One. Cullen Family pride, you see.

* * *

In the autumn 2005, of my last year at Harvard university,

I studied a lot in the Radcliffe library.

The library was quiet, nobody knew me there, and they

had the books that I needed for my studies. The day before

an examination I went over _to _the library desk to ask for a

book. Two girls were working there. One was tall, blonde and

sporty. The other was small, quiet and brunette. I chose her,

and asked for my book. She gave me an unfriendly look.

'Don't you have a library at Harvard?' she asked.

'Radcliffe lets us use their library,' I answered.

'Yes, Fratboy, they do - but is it fair? Harvard has five

million books. We have a few measly thousand.' she said.

Oh crap, I thought. A smartass Radcliffe girl. I can usually make

girls like her feel very small. But I needed that damn

book, so I had to be polite.

'Listen, I need that damn book.' I said

'Don't speak like that to a lady, Fratboy.' she answered

'Why are you so sure that I'm a fratboy?' I asked her.

She looked at me with her chocolate eyes and said,

'You look stupid and rich."

'You're wrong,' I said. 'I'm actually clever and poor.'

'Oh no, Fratie,' she said. _'I'm _clever and poor.'

She was looking straight at me. All right, she had pretty

chocolate brown eyes; and OK, perhaps I looked rich.

But I don't let anyone call me stupid.

'What makes you so clever?' I asked.

'I'm not going to go for coffee with you,' she said.

'Listen - I'm not going to ask you!' I retorted.

'That', she said, 'is what makes you so stupid.'

* * *

Let me explain why I took Bella for coffee. I got the book

that I wanted, didn't I? And she couldn't leave the library

until closing time. So I was able to study the book for a good

long time. I got an A in my exam the next day.

I gave Bella's legs an A too, when she came out from

behind the library desk. We went to a Starbucks and I

ordered coffee for both of us.

'I'm Isabella Swan,' she said. 'My dad calls me Isabella,

but I prefer Bella. I'm studying music.' she finished.

'My name is Edward,' I said.

'That's an interesting name. Do you have a last name?' she asked.

'My last name is Cullen.' I said to her.

'Oh,' Bella said. 'Like Countee Cullen the poet?'

'Yes,' I said. 'No relation.'

I was pleased that she hadn't said, 'Cullen, like Cullen

Hall?' That Cullen _is _a relation of mine. Cullen Hall is a

large, unlovely building at Harvard University. My great-grandfather

gave it to Harvard long ago, and I am deeply ashamed of it.

Bella was silent. She sat there, half-smiling at me.

I looked at her notebooks.

'Sixteenth-century music?' I said. 'That sounds difficult.'

'It's too difficult for you, Fratboy,' she said coldly.

Why was I letting her talk to me like this? Didn't she read

the university magazine? Didn't she know who I was?

'Hey, don't you know who I am?' I asked her.

'Yes,' she answered. 'You're the guy who owns Cullen Hall.'

Bella didn't know who I was.

'I don't _own _Cullen Hall,' I argued. 'My great-grandfather

gave it to Harvard, that's all.'

'So that's why his not-so-great grandson could get into

Harvard so easily!' she answered teasingly.

I was angry now. 'Bella, if I'm no good, why did you want

me to invite you for coffee?' I demanded

She looked straight into my eyes and smiled.

'I like your body,' she said.

* * *

Every big winner has to be a good loser too. Every good

Harvard man knows that. But it's better if you can win. And

so, as I walked with Bella to her dormitory, I made my

winning move.

'Listen, Friday night is the Dartmouth hockey match.' I said.

'So?' Bella answered.

'So I'd like you to come.' I said.

These Radcliffe girls, they really care about sports - NOT!

'And why', she asked, 'should I come to a stupid ice-hockey match?'

'Because I'm playing,' I answered.

There was a moment's silence. I think I heard snow falling.

'For which team?' Bella asked.

* * *

By the second quarter of the game on Friday night, we were

winning 0 - 0. That is, Davey Johnson and I were getting

ready to score a goal. The crowd were screaming for blood

- or a goal. I always feel that it's my job to give them both

these things. I didn't look up at Bella once, but I hoped she

was watching me.

I got the puck and started off across the ice. Davey

Johnson was there on my left, but I didn't pass the puck to

him. I wanted to score this goal myself. But before I could

shoot, two big Dartmouth men were after me. In a moment

we were hitting the puck and each other as hard as we could.

'You!' said a voice suddenly. 'Two minutes in the penalty box.'

I looked up. He was talking to me. 'What did I do?' I asked.

'Don't argue.' He called to the officials' desk: 'Number

seven, two minutes in the penalty box, for fighting.'

Angrily I climbed into the penalty box.

'Why are you sitting here when all your friends are playing?'

The voice was Bella's. I didn't answer.

'Come on, Harvard, get that puck!' I shouted.

'What did you do wrong?' Bella asked.

'I tried too hard.' i replied

Out there on the ice Harvard were playing with only five men.

'Is that something to be ashamed of?' Bella asked.

'Bella, please. I'm thinking.'

'What about?' she asked.

'About those two Dartmouth men. When I get back onto

the ice, I'll break them into little pieces.' I said.

'Do you always fight when you play hockey?' asked Bella.

'I'll fight you, Bella, if you don't keep quiet.' I threatened.

'Fine then, I'm leaving. Goodbye,' snapped Bella.

I looked round, but she had gone. Just then the bell rang.

My two-minute penalty had finished. I jumped onto the ice again.

'Good old Cullen!' shouted the crowd. Bella will hear

them shouting for me, I thought. But where was she?

Had she left?

As I went for the puck, I looked up into the crowd. Bella

was standing there. I took the puck and went towards the

goal line. Two Dartmouth players were coming straight at me.

'Go, Edward, go! Knock their heads off!'

That was Bellas's voice above the crowd. It was crazily,

beautifully violent. I pushed past one Dartmouth man. I

knocked hard into the other. Then I passed the puck to

Davey Johnson, and he banged it into the Dartmouth goal.

The crowd went wild.

In a moment we were all shouting and kissing and banging

each other on the back. The crowd were screaming with

excitement. After that, we murdered Dartmouth - seven

goals to zero.

* * *

After the match I lay in the hot bath and thought with pride

about the game. I'd scored one goal, and helped to score

another. Now the water felt wonderful on my tired body.

Ahhhh!

Suddenly I remembered Bella. Was she still waiting

outside? I hoped so! I jumped out of that bath and dressed

as fast as I could.

Outside, the cold winter air hit me. I looked round for

Bella. Had she walked back to her dormitory alone?

Suddenly I saw her.

'Hey, Fratie, it's cold out here.' Bella said.

I was really pleased to see her, and gave her a quick kiss.

'Did I say you could kiss me?' she said.

'Sorry. I was just excited.' I replied.

'I wasn't.' Bella said.

It was dark and quiet, out there in the cold. I kissed her

again, more slowly. When we reached her dormitory, I did

not kiss her goodnight.

'Listen, Bella, perhaps I won't phone you for a few

months.' I told her

Bella was silent for a moment. 'Why?' she asked at last.

'But perhaps I'll call you as soon as I get back to my

dorm.' I said and turned and began to walk away.

'Damn Fratboy!' I heard Bella say. I turned again.

From twenty feet away I scored another goal.

I said, 'You see, Bella, that's the kind of thing _you _say.

And when other people do it to you, you don't like it.'

I wished I could see the look on her face. But I couldn't

look back. My pride wouldn't let me.

* * *

When I returned to my dorm, Ray Stratton was there. He and

I slept in the same room. Ray was playing cards with some

of his football-playing friends.

'Hullo, Edward,' said Ray. 'How many goals did you score?'

'I scored one, and I made one,' I answered.

'With Swan?'

'That's none of your damn business!' I replied quickly.

'Who's Swan?' asked one of the footballers.

'Isabella Swan. Studies music. Plays the piano with the

Music Group.'

'What does she play with Edward?'

"She probably plays hard to get!' Everyone laughed.

'Up yours!' I said as I entered my room.

There I took off my shoes, lay back on my bed and

telephoned Bella's dormitory.

'Hey, Bella . . .' I said softly.

'Yes?'

'I think I'm falling in love with you.' I told her.

Bella was silent for a few moments. Then she answered,

very softly:

'Edward, I think you're full of crap.'

Then she hung up the phone.

I wasn't unhappy. Or surprised.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

* * *

Blood and Stone

* * *

A few weeks later I was hurt in the hockey match at Cornell

university. My face was badly cut and the officials gave me

the penalty for starting the fight. Five minutes! I sat quietly in

the penalty box while the team manager cleaned the blood off

my face. I was ashamed to look out onto the ice. But the shouts

of the crowd told me everything. Cornell scored a goal. The

score was 3-3 now. 'Damn', I thought. We're going to lose this

match, because of me.

* * *

Across the ice, among the crowd, I saw him. My father,

Mr. Carlisle Cullen himself. Old Stonyface.

He was looking straight at me.

_'If the meeting finishes in time, I'll come to Cornell and_

_watch you play,' _he had told me on the phone.

And there he was, Mr. Carlisle Cullen. What was he

thinking about? Who could say? Why was he here? Family

pride, perhaps. _'Look at me. I am a very busy, important man,_

_but I have come all the way to Cornell, just to watch my son_

_play in a hockey match.'_

We lost, six goals to three. After the match the doctor put

twelve stitches in my face.

When I got to the changing-room, it was empty. They

don't want to talk to me, I thought. I lost that match.

I felt very ashamed as I walked out into the winter night.

'Come and have dinner, son,' said a voice.

It was Mr. Carlisle Sebastian Cullen, himself.

* * *

At dinner we had one of our non-conversations. We spoke

to each other, but didn't actually _say _anything.

These nonconversations always started with 'How have you been,

son?' and ended with 'Is there anything I can do for you?'

'How have you been, son?' my father began.

'Fine, sir.'

'Does your face hurt?'

'No, sir.' (It hurt terribly.)

Next, Old Stonyface talked about Playing the Game. 'All

right, son, you lost the match.' (How clever of you to notice,

Father.) 'But after all, in sport, the important thing is the

playing, not the winning.' spoke Mr. Carlisle Cullen

Wonderful, I thought. Father was chosen for the Olympic

Games. And now he says winning is not important!

I just looked down at my plate and said 'Yes, sir' at the

right times.

Our non-conversation continued. After Playing the Game,

he discussed My Plans.

'Tell me, Edward, has the Law School accepted you yet?' asked Carlisle

'Not yet, sir.' I said.

'Would you like me to phone them?' asked Mr. Carlisle Cullen

'No!' I said at once. 'I want to get a letter like other people,

sir. Please.' I said

'Yes, of course. Fine. After all, they're sure to accept _you.'' _spoke Carlisle.

Why? I thought. Because I'm clever and successful?

Or because I'm the son of Carlisle Sebastian Cullen?

The meal was as uninteresting as the conversation.

At last my father spoke again.

'There's always the Peace Corps, Edward,' he said suddenly.

'I think the Peace Corps is a fine thing, don't you?'

'Oh, yes, sir,' I said politely. I knew nothing about the

Peace Corps.

'What do your friends at Harvard think about the Peace

Corps?' he asked. 'Do they feel that the Peace Corps is

important in our world today?'

'Yes, sir,' I said politely, just to please him.

After dinner I walked with him to his car.

'Is there anything I can do for you, son?' he asked.

'No, thank you, sir. Good night, sir.'

Our non-conversation was finished: he drove away. Yes,

of course there are planes, but Mr. Carlisle Cullen chose

to drive. My father likes to drive - fast. And at that time of

night, in an Aston Martin DBS, you can go very fast indeed.

* * *

I called Bella on my cell. That was the only good part

of the evening. I told her about the fight. She enjoyed that.

Her musical friends never got into fights.

'I hope you hit the man who hit you,' Bella said.

'Oh, yes.' I bragged to her.

Bella said,'Good! I'm sorry I couldn't be there to watch you.

Perhaps you'll hit somebody in the Yale match?' Bella asked

I smiled. Bella really made me feel better.

Back at Harvard the next day I dropped by at her dorm.

Bella was talking to someone on the phone in the hall.

'Yes. Of course! Oh yes, Charlie. I love you too. Love and

kisses. Goodbye, Charlie.'

Who was she talking to? I had only been away forty-eight

hours, and she had found a new boyfriend!

Bella did not seem ashamed. She kissed me lightly on the

unhurt side of my face.

'Hey - you look terrible!' she said.

'Twelve stitches, Bella.'

'Does the other man look worse than you?' she asked.

'Much worse. I always make the other man look worse.' I bragged.

We walked to my MG sports car.

'Who's Charlie?' I asked as carelessly as I could.

'My father,' answered Bella.

I could not believe that! 'You call your father Charlie?'

'That's his name. What do you call _your _father?' Bella said.

'Sir,' I replied.

'He must be really proud of you. You're a big hockey star

- _and _you're always successful in your exams.' Bella stated.

'You don't know anything, Bella. He was good at exams

and sport, too. He was in the Olympic Games.' I said.

'My God! Did he win?' asked Bella.

'No.' I answered her.

(Actually, Old Stonyface was sixth, which makes me

feel a little better.)

Bella was silent for a moment.

'Why do you hate him so much?' Bella asked at last.

'I'm Edward Anthony Cullen,' I answered. 'All Cullens

have to be successful. And that means I have to be good at

everything, all the time. I hate it.'

'Oh, I'm sure you do,' laughed Bella. 'You hate doing

well in your exams. You hate being a hockey star . . .'

'But he _expects _it!' I said. 'If I'm successful, he isn't

excited, or surprised. He was a big success, and he expects

me to be the same.' I said

I told Bella about our meal and our non-conversation after

the Cornell match, but she didn't understand at all.

'You say your father is a busy man,' Bella said. 'But he

found time to go all the way to Cornell to watch you play.

How can you say these terrible things about him, when he

drove all that way, just to watch your hockey match?

He loves you, Edward - can't you understand?'

'Forget it, Bella,' I said. She was silent for a moment.

'I'm pleased you have problems with your father,' Bella said

at last. 'That means you aren't perfect.'

'Oh - you mean you _are _perfect?' I asked her.

'Of course not, Fratboy. That's why I go out with you!'

Bella loved to have the last word.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

We are together as one

* * *

I HAD not yet made love to Bella. In the three weeks we had

been together, we had held hands. Sometimes we had

kissed, but that was all. Usually I moved much faster - ask

the other girls that I'd been out with! Usually they couldn't

resist my looks. I was 6'2'' with green eyes, and copper hair.

The truth was that I was a major hottie.

But Bella was special.

I felt different about Bella and I didn't know what to say to her.

'You're going to fail your exams, Edward.' Bella said.

We were studying in my room one Sunday afternoon.

'Edward, you'll fail your exams if you don't do some work.'

'I _am _working.' I grouched at her.

'No, you aren't. You're looking at my legs.' Bella stated.

'Only once every chapter.' I admitted

'That book has very short chapters.' Bella said with a smirk.

'Listen Bella, you aren't as good-looking as all that!' I yelled at her.

'I know that Edward, but can I help it if you think so?' Bella answered.

'Dammit, Bella, how can I study when all the time I'm wanting

to make love to you?'

Bella closed her book softly and put it down. She put her

arms around me.

'Edward, will you please make love to me?'

It all happened at once. It was all so unhurried, soft and gentle.

And I was gentle too. Was this the real Edward Anthony Cullen?

'Hey, Edward, did I ever tell you that I love you?' said Bella

'Finally!' I thought.

'No, Bella.' I kissed her neck.

'I love you very much, Edward.'

* * *

I love Ray Stratton too. He's not very clever, or a

wonderful footballer, but he was a good friend to me.

Where did he go to study when I was in our room with Bella?

Where did he sleep on those Saturdays when Bella and I

spent the night together? In the old days I always told him

all about my girlfriends. But I never told him anything

about Bella and me.

'My God, Cullen, are you two sleeping together or not?' asked Ray.

'Raymond, please don't ask.' I said.

'You spend every minute of your free time with her. It isn't

natural,' said Ray.

'Ray, when two adults are in love . . . ' I began.

'Love? At your age? My God, I worry about you, I really do.' Ray said.

I answered him, 'Don't worry, Raymond, old friend. We'll have that flat

in New York one day. Different girls every night . . . '

Ray interupted and said, 'Don't you tell me not to worry, Edward.

That girl's _got _you, and I don't like it!'

* * *

That evening I went to hear Bella play the piano with the

University Music Group.

'You were wonderful,' I said afterwards.

'That shows what you know about music, Fratboy.' Bella said.

We walked along the river together.

'I played OK. Not wonderful' Bella said.

She continued, 'Not "Olympic Games," Just OK. OK?'

'OK - but you should always continue your music,' I said.

'Of course I will. I'm going to study with

Nadia Boulanger, aren't I? Bella admitted.

'Who?' I asked.

Bella took a small breath and said, 'Nadia Boulanger.

She's a famous music teacher in Paris.

I'm very lucky. I won a scholarship, too," she finished.

'Bella - you're going to Paris?'

'I've never seen Europe. I'm really excited about it.' Bella said.

I took her by the arms and pulled her towards me.

'Hey - how long have you known this?" I asked her.

Bella looked down at her feet and said, 'Edward, don't be stupid.

We can't do anything about it. After we finish university,

you'll go your way and I'll go mine. You'll go to law school—'

'Wait a minute! What are you talking about?' I bellowed.

Bella looked into my eyes, her eyes looked extremely forlorn.

She began speaking sadly, 'Edward, you're a rich fratboy.

Your old man owns a bank. My father's a policeman in Cranston,

Rhode Island . . . and I'm nobody…a social zero.'

'What does that matter? We're together now. We're happy.' I said to her.

'Edward, don't be stupid,' Bella repeated. 'Harvard is full of all

kinds of different people. You study together, you have fun

together. But afterwards you have to go back to where you belong.'

I began to beg her, 'We belong together. Don't leave me, Bella. Please.'

'What about my scholarship? What about Paris?' asked Bella

'What about our marriage?' I said to her.

'Who said anything about marriage?' said Bella in surprise.

'Me. I'm saying it now.' I said in desperation.

'Why?' Bella asked.

I looked straight into her chocolate brown eyes.

"Because,' I said.

'Oh,' said Bella. 'That's a very good reason.'

Bella took my arm and we walked along the river.

There was nothing more to say, really.

* * *

The next Sunday we drove to visit my parents in Boston,

Massachusetts. Bella said it was the right thing to do, and

of course there was also the fact that Mr. Carlisle Cullen paid

for my studies at Harvard.

'Oh my God,' Bella said when we drove up to the house.

'I didn't expect this. It's like a damn palace!'

'Please, Bella. Everything will be fine.'

Bella said, 'Yeah, for a nice all-American girl of good family,

perhaps. But not for Bella Swan, the police chief 's daughter,

from Cranston, Rhode Island.'

I knocked at the door.

"Let's run!" Bella said with wide eyes and a smile on her face.

Florence opened the door. She has worked for the Cullen

family for many years. She told us that my parents were

waiting in the library. We followed her past a long line of

pictures of famous Cullens and a glass case full of silver and

gold cups.

'They look just like real silver and gold,' said Bella, 'they

don't give cups like those at the Cranston Sports Club!'

'They _are _real silver and gold,' I answered.

'My God! Are they yours?' Bella asked.

'No, my father's.' I said.

'Do you have silver and gold cups too, Edward?' Bella asked me.

'Yes.' I answered her.

'In a glass case, like these?' Bella said.

'No,' I responded, 'Up in my room, under the bed.''

She gave me one of her good Bella-looks.

'We'll go and look at them later, shall we?' she teased.

Before I could answer, we heard a voice.

'Ah, hello there.' It was Old Stonyface.

'Oh, hello, sir. This is Isabella—'

'Hello there.' He shook her hand before I could say her

full name. There was a smile on his usually rock-like face.

'Do come in and meet Mrs. Cullen . . . My wife Esme.

This is Isabella —'

'Swane,' I said - for the first and only time, I got her damn name wrong!

'Swan,' said Bella politely, 'Please call me Bella.'

Mother and Bella shook hands.

All through dinner Mother kept the polite small talk going.

'So your people are from Cranston, Bella?' said my mother.

'Mostly. My mother came from Fall River.'

'The Cullens have factories at Fall River,' said Carlisle.

'Where they cheated their workers for centuries,' I added.

'In the nineteenth century,' said Mr. Carlisle Cullen.

'What about the plans to put automatic machines in the

factories?' said Mr. Carlisle Cullen.

'What about coffee?' my mother said quickly.

We moved back into the library.

We sat there with nothing to say to each other.

So I started a new non-conversation.

'Tell me, Bella,' I said, 'what do you think about the

Peace Corps?' She looked at me in surprise.

'Oh, have you told them, Carlisle?' asked my mother.

'It isn't the time for that, my dear,' said Mr. Carlisle Cullen,

with an "Ask me, ask me!" look on his face.

'What's this, Father?' I asked, just to please him.

'Nothing important, son,' he said.

'I don't know how you can say that,' said my mother.

She turned to me and said, 'Your father is going to be

Head of the Peace Corps.'

'Oh,' I said.

'Oh!' said Bella in a different, happier kind of voice.

'Well done, Mr Cullen.' Bella said with praise.

Bella gave me a hard look.

'Yes. Well done, sir,' I said at last.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

Dads of a different kind

* * *

'Bella, he isn't going to be President of the USA, after all!' I said.

We were driving back to Harvard.

'You still weren't very nice to him about it, Edward' Bella said.

'I looked at Bella and said to her, "I told him, "Well done"!'

'Ha! Edward, why are you so unkind to your father? You

hurt him all the time.' Bella answered angrily.

'It's impossible to hurt Carlisle Sebastian Cullen.' I retored.

'No, it isn't – not if you marry Bella Swan' she said.

My jaw dropped in horror and amazement. I couldn't believe

she actually said that to me... or even would think it.

'Edward,' she explained, 'I know you love me. But in a strange way

you want me because I'm not suitable for a Cullen to marry.

You are rebelling against your father.' Bella finished.

I told her that she was crazy as hell!

* * *

My father said the same thing a few days later when we

had lunch together at the Harvard Club in Boston.

'Son,' my father said, 'you're in too much in a hurry.

The young lady herself is fine. The problem is _you. _

You are rebelling, and you know it,' he finished.

'Father, what worries you most about her?

That she's catholic? Or that she's poor?' I asked.

'What do you _like _most about her?' Carlisle asked.

'I'm leaving.' I said.

'Stay and talk like a man.' I stayed.

Old Stonyface liked that. He's won again, I thought angrily.

"Bella's not some crazy gold-digger' I said.

'Yes,' Carlisle said, 'She's not a lot of things.'

'Wait a while, son,' said Carlisle Sebastian Cullen.

'That's all I ask. Finish law school.' he finished.

'Why do I have to wait?' I was rebelling now.

Edward, you are still under twenty-one. In the eyes of the

law you are not yet an adult.' Carlisle said.

'Stop talking like a lawyer, dammit!' I responded.

'Edward, If you marry her now, you will get nothing

from me.' Carlisle warned.

'Father, you've got nothing that I want.' I said

I walked out of his club and out of his life.

* * *

After that, I was not looking forward to meeting Bella's

father. She was his only child and her mother was dead. She

meant a lot to him . . . I could see a lot of problems there.

_And _I was penniless. How is Mr. Swan going to feel,

I thought, when he hears that young Mr. Cullen can't support his

daughter? Worse, she will have to work as a teacher to

support him while he is at law school!

As we drove down to Cranston on that Sunday in May,

I worried a lot about Mr. Swan's feelings.

'Tell me again, Bella.' I said.

'OK. I phoned him, and he said OK.' Bella answered.

'But what does he _mean _by "OK"?'

'Are you trying to tell me that Harvard Law School has

accepted a man who doesn't know the meaning of "OK"?' Bella said

'It isn't a word that lawyers use much, Bella.

"Just tell me again. Please.' I begged.

'He knows you're poor, and he doesn't mind. So stop

worrying, Edward.' Bella said.

Bella lived on Hamilton Street. It was a long line of

wooden houses with children playing in front of them, and

whole families sitting on their front steps. I felt like a stranger

in a strange land as I parked the MG outside Hamilton

Street. Mr. Swan's handshake was warm and strong.

'How do you do, sir?' I said.

'I'm Charlie,' he said.

'Charlie, sir.' It was a frightening moment. Then Mr. Swan

turned to his daughter. Suddenly they were in each other's

arms, laughing and crying and kissing. I felt like a stranger.

For some time I did not have to speak much.

'Don't speak with your mouth full,' my family had told me when

I was a child. Charlie and his daughter kept my mouth full all

afternoon. I don't know how much food I ate,

but, both Swans were very pleased.

'He's OK,' said Charlie at last.

'I told you he was OK,' said his daughter.

'Well, I had to see for myself. Now I've seen him. Edward—'

'Yes, sir?' I answered.

'Call me Charlie. You're OK.' replied Charlie.

Later Charlie tried to have a serious talk with me. He thought

he could bring Carlisle Cullen and Edward Cullen together again.

'Let me speak to him on the phone,' Charlie said,

'A father's love is a very special thing . . . '

'There isn't much of it in my family,' I said.

'Your father will soon realize,' he began.

'When it's time to go to the church —'

'Charlie,' said Bella gently, 'we don't want to be married in

church.' He looked surprised, then unhappy. But he spoke bravely.

It's your wedding, children. You choose. It's OK by me.'

My next meeting was with the Head of Harvard Law School.

'I'll need a scholarship for next year, sir,' I said politely.

'A scholarship? I don't understand. Your father—'

'My father has nothing to do with it, sir. We've had a

disagreement, and he isn't supporting me any more.' The

Head took off his glasses, then put them on again.

I continued, 'That's why I've come here to see you, sir.

I'm getting married next month. We're both going to work

during the summer. Then Bella will support us by teaching.

But her teaching won't pay enough to send me to law school.

Sir, I need a scholarship. I have no money in the bank.'

'Mr Cullen, our scholarships are for poor people. And it's

too late to ask for one. I do not wish to enter into a family

disagreement, but I think you should go and talk to your

father again.'

'Oh no!' I said angrily. 'I am not, repeat _not, _going back

to my father to ask for money!'

* * *

When Bella graduated from university that summer, all her

relations came from Cranston to watch. We didn't tell them

about our marriage plans because we wanted a quiet

wedding, and didn't want to hurt their feelings. I graduated

from Harvard the next day. Was Carlisle Sebastian Cullen there in

the university hall? I don't know. I didn't look for Old

Stonyface in the crowd. I gave my parents' tickets to Bella

and Charlie, but as an old Harvard man my father could sit with

the Class of '86. But why should he want to? I mean, weren't

the banks open that day?

The wedding was on the next Sunday. It was very quiet

and very beautiful. Charlie was there, of course, and my friend

Ray Stratton. Bella and I spoke about our love for each

other and promised to stay together until death. Ray gave me

the ring and soon Edward Anthony Cullen and Isabella Marie

Swan were man and wife.

We had a small party afterwards, just the four of us. Then

Ray and Charlie went home and Bella and I were alone together.

'Bella, we're really married!' I said.

'Yes. Now I can really start being a bitch!' she laughed.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

Our first three years

* * *

Three years we had to make every dollar do the work of two.

All through the summer holidays we worked at the

Boat Club in Dennis Port. It was hard work, but we were never

too tired to be kind to each other. I say 'kind' because there are

no words to describe our love and happiness together.

After the summer we found a 'cheap' flat near the

university. It was on the top floor of an old house and was

actually very expensive. But what could we do?

There weren't many flats around.

'Hey, Fratboy,' said Bella when we arrived there.

'Are you my husband or aren't you?'

'Of course I'm your husband.' I said.

'Show me, then.' (My God, I thought, in the street?)

'Carry me into our first home!' Bella laughed.

I carried her up the five steps to the front door.

'Why did you stop?' she asked. 'This isn't our home.

Upstairs, Fratboy!' Bella commanded.

There were twenty-four stairs up to our flat, and I had to

stop half-way.

'Why are you so heavy?' I asked her.

'Perhaps I'm expecting a baby.' she said.

'My God! Are you?' I asked.

'Ha! I frightened you then, didn't I?' Bella giggled.

'Well, yes, just for a second or two.' I admitted.

I carried her the rest of the way. There were very few

moments in those days when we were not worrying about

money. Very few, and very wonderful - and that moment

was one of them.

A food shop let us 'eat now, pay later', thanks to the

Cullen name. But our famous name did not help us in

Bella's work. The Head of the school thought we were rich.

'Of course, we can't pay our teachers very much,' said

Miss Whitman. 'But that won't worry _you, _Mrs. Cullen!'

Bella tried to explain that Cullens had to eat, just like

other people. Miss Whitman just laughed politely.

'Don't worry,' Bella said to me. 'We'll manage. Just learn

to like spaghetti.'

I did. I learned to like spaghetti and Bella learned lots of

different ways of cooking it. With Bella's pay from school,

and our money from our summer work and my holiday jobs,

we managed. Our lives had changed a lot, of course. There

was no more music for Bella. She had to teach all day, and

came home very tired. Then she had to cook dinner —

restaurants were too expensive for us. There were a lot of

films that we didn't see, and places and people that we didn't

visit. But we were doing OK.

* * *

One day a beautiful invitation arrived. It was for my father's

fiftieth birthday party.

'Well?' said Bella. I was in the middle of a thick law book

and did not hear her at first. 'Edward, he's reaching out to you.'

'No, he isn't. My mother wrote it. Now be quiet.

I'm studying. I've got exams in three weeks.'

'Edward, think. Fifty years old, dammit. How do you know

that he'll still be alive when _you _decide to forget your

stupid arguement?' Bella asked.

'I don't know, and I don't care. Now let me get on with

my work!' I said.

'One day,' said Bella, 'when you're having problems with

Edward Junior—'

'Our son won't be called Edward, you can be sure of that!'

I said angrily.

'You can call him Bozo if you like. But that child will feel

bad about you, because you were a big Harvard sportsman.

And by the time he goes to university, you'll probably be a

big, important lawyer!' She continued, 'Edward, your father

loves you, in the same way as you will love Bozo. But you

Cullens are so full of pride - you'll go through life thinking

that you hate each other. Now . .what about that invitation?'

'Write them a nice letter of refusal.' I said.

'Edward, I can't hurt your father like that . . . What's their

phone number?' Bella asked.

I told her and was at once deep in my law book again.

I tried not to listen to her talking on the telephone,

but she was in the same room, after all.

Suddenly I thought, _How long does it take to say no?_

'Edward?' Bella had her hand over the phone mouthpiece.

'Edward, do we have to say no?' she asked.

'Yes, we do. And hurry up, dammit!' I said.

'I'm terribly sorry,' she said into the telephone.

Bella covered the mouthpiece again and turned to me. 'He's very

hurt, Edward! Can you just sit there and let your father bleed?'

'Stones don't bleed, Bella. This isn't one of your warm,

loving, sweet policeman fathers.' I told her.

'Edward, can't you just speak to him?'

'Speak to him! Are you crazy?' I said.

She held the telephone towards me. She was trying not to cry.

'I will never speak to him. Ever,' I said.

Now she was crying, very quietly. Then Bella asked me once

more. 'For me, Edward. I've never asked you for anything.

Please.' Bella begged me.

I couldn't do it. Didn't Bella understand? It was just

impossible. Unhappily I shook my head. Then Bella spoke

to me quietly and very angrily. 'You have no heart,' she said.

She spoke into the telephone again. 'Mr. Cullen, Edward

wants you to know . . . ' She was crying, so it wasn't easy

for her. 'Edward loves you very much,' she said, and put the

telephone down quickly.

I don't know why I did it. Perhaps I went crazy for a moment.

Violently I took the phone and threw it across the room.

'Damn you, Bella! Why don't you get the hell out of my life?' I yelled.

* * *

I stood still for a second. My God, I thought, what's

happening to me? I turned to look at Bella. But she had gone.

I looked round the flat for her. Her coat was still there,

but she had disappeared.

I ran out of the house and searched everywhere for her:

the law school library, Radcliffe, the music school. Was Bella

in one of the music rooms? I heard somebody playing the

piano, loudly and very badly. Was it Bella? I pushed the

door open. A big Radcliffe girl was at the piano.

'What's the matter?' she asked.

'Nothing,' I answered, and closed the door again.

Where, oh where, had she gone? I felt terrible. I searched

the university, the streets and the cafes. Nothing. Had she

taken a bus to Cranston, perhaps? At midnight I called Charlie.

'Hello?' he said sleepily. 'What's the matter? Is Bella ill?'

My God, I thought, she isn't there! 'Bella's fine, Charlie.

Uh - I just called to say hello.' I told him.

'You should call more often, dammit,' he said.

'Is Cranston so far away that you can't come down

on a Sunday afternoon?'

'We'll come, some Sunday, Charlie, I promise.' I said.

'Don't give me that - "some Sunday" indeed!

_This _Sunday, Edward.' Charlie demanded

'Yes, sir. This Sunday.' I promised.

'And this time, I'll pay for the gas, dammit. OK?

Charlie hung up the phone. I stood there and wondered what

to do. At last I went back to the flat.

Bella was sitting on the top step. I was too tired to cry,

too glad to speak.

'I forgot my key,' said Bella.

I stood there on the bottom step. I was afraid to ask how

long she had been there. I only knew that I had hurt her

terribly.

'Bella, I'm sorry—'

'Stop Edward!' she said. Then she added, 'Love is forgiveness.'

We walked up to our flat. As we undressed, she looked

lovingly at me.

'I meant what I said, Edward.' Bella said softly.

And that was all.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

Money Isn't everything

* * *

When the letter came from the Law School, it changed

our lives. I came third in the final examinations and

suddenly everyone wanted to offer me jobs. It was a

wonderful time. Think of it: an all-American boy with a

famous name, third in his examinations and a Harvard

hockey player too. Crowds of people were fighting to get my

name and number on their company writing paper.

At last I accepted a job with Jonas and Marsh in New

York. I was the highest-paid graduate of my year too.

After three years of spaghetti and looking twice at every

dollar, it felt wonderful.

* * *

We moved to a beautiful flat in New York. Jonas and

Marsh's office was an easy ten-minute walk away. And there

were lots of fashionable shops nearby too. I told my wife to

get in there and start spending immediately.

'Why, Edward?' Bella asked.

'Woman, you supported me for three years. Now it's my

turn!' I gloated.

I joined the Harvard Club of New York. Ray Stratton was

working in New York too and we played tennis together

three times a week. My old Harvard friends discovered me

once more, and invitations arrived.

'Say no, Edward. I don't want to spend my free time with

a lot of empty-headed fratboys.'

'OK, Bella, but what shall I tell them?' I asked.

'Tell them I'm expecting a baby.' Bella answered.

'Are you? I asked her.

Bella smiled. 'No, but if we stay at home tonight, perhaps I will.'

We already had a name for our child.

'You know,' I said one evening. 'I really like the name Bozo.'

'You honestly want to call our child Bozo?' Bella asked.

'Yes. It's the name of a big sports star. He'll be

wonderfully big and strong,' I continued. 'Bozo Cullen,'

Harvard's biggest football star.' I bragged.

We had a name for our child and we wanted him very much.

But it's not always easy to make a baby, although we tried

very hard.

* * *

Finally I became worried and we went together to see a doctor.

Doctor Sheppard checked everything carefully. He took

some of our blood and sent it away for examination. 'We'll

know soon,' he said.

A few days later he telephoned me at my office and asked

me to visit him on my way home that evening.

'Well, Doctor,' I said, 'which of us has the problem?'

'It's Bella,' he said. 'She will never have children.'

I was ready for this news, but it still shook me.

'Well,' I said, 'children aren't everything.'

'Edward,' said Doctor Sheppard, 'the problem is more

serious than that. Bella is very ill. She has a blood disease.

It is destroying her blood, and we can't stop it. She is dying,

Edward. I am very sorry.'

'That's impossible, Doctor,' I said. I waited for the doctor

to tell me that it was not true.

Kindly and patiently he explained again, and at last I

understood the terrible words.

'Have you spoken to Bella, Doctor? What did you tell her?'

'I told her that you were both all right. For the moment

it's better that way.'

I wanted to shout and scream at the unfairness of it all.

Bella was twenty-four, and she was dying.

'What can I do to help, Doctor?' I asked at last.

'Just be natural,' he said. _Natural!_

* * *

I began to think about God. At first I hated Him.

Then next morning I woke up and Bella was still there beside me.

Still there. I was ashamed. Thank you, God, I thought.

Thank you for letting me wake up and see Bella again.

'Be natural,' the doctor had said. I did my best, and all the

time I was living with my terrible secret.

One day Mr Jonas called me into his office. 'Edward, I have

an important job for you. How soon can you go to Chicago?

You can take one of the younger men with you.' he added.

One of the younger men? I was the youngest man in the office.

I understood the message: Edward, although you are still only

twenty-four, you are one of our top men.

'Thank you, sir,' I said, 'but I can't leave New York just now.'

I had decided not to tell anyone about my troubles.

I wanted to keep my secret as long as possible.

I could see that old man Jonas was unhappy about my refusal.

On the way home that day I saw a notice in a travel shop

window: 'Fly to Paris!' Suddenly I remembered Bella's

words: _What about my scholarship? What about Paris?_

I went into the shop and bought two tickets to Paris.

Bella was looking grey and tired when I got home.

When I showed her the tickets, she shook her head.

'Edward,' she said gently, 'I don't want Paris. I just want you."

I forced a smile on my face and said, "You already got that, baby!"

. . . and I want time, which you can't give me.' Bella finished.

Now I looked in her eyes and saw the sadness in them.

We sat there silently, holding each other. Then Bella explained.

'I was feeling absolutely crappy. So I went back to the doctor and

demanded he tell me everything. So he did." Bella said.

Now I didn't have to be 'natural' any more. We had no

more secrets from each other. Now we could discuss things.

Things that young husbands and wives don't usually discuss.

'You must be strong, Edward,' Bella said. 'For Charlie.

It's going to be hard for him. He needs your help. OK?'

'OK. I'll be strong,' I promised. I hoped Bella could not

see how frightened I was.

* * *

A month later, just after dinner, Bella was playing Chopin

on the piano. Suddenly she stopped. I immediately went to her.

'Are you rich enough to pay for a taxi?' Bella asked.

'Of course. Where do you want to go?' I asked her.

'To the hospital.' Bella admitted.

In the next few busy, worried moments, while I hurriedly

packed a bag, I realized. This is it, I thought. Bella is going

to walk out of this flat and never come back. I wondered

what Bella was thinking. She sat there, looking straight in

front of her.

'Hey,' I said, 'is there anything special that you want to

take with you?'

'No,' Bella said. Then she thought again. 'Yes. You.'

The taxi-driver thought Bella was expecting a baby.

'Is this your first?' he asked.

I was holding Bella in my arms, and I felt ready to explode.

'Please, Edward,' Bella said to me softly. 'He's trying to be

nice to us.'

'Yes,' I told the driver. 'It's our first. And my wife isn't

feeling very well. So can you hurry, please?'

He got us to the hospital in ten minutes. 'Good luck!' he

called as he drove away. Bella kindly thanked him.

Bella was having trouble walking. I wanted to carry her.

But she said clearly, 'Not this time, Fratboy.' So we walked.

'Have you got health insurance?' they asked us in the hospital.

'No.' We had never thought about buying insurance.

We were too busy buying furniture and kitchen things.

Of course, the doctors knew about Bella and they were

expecting us.

'Listen,' I told them. 'Do your best for Bella. I don't care

what it costs. I want Bella to have the best of everything, please.

I've got the money.' I promised them.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

* * *

Rich Fratboys don't cry

* * *

I jumped into my MG and drove through the night to

Boston. I changed my shirt in the car before I entered the

offices on State Street. It was only eight o'clock in the

morning, but several important-looking people were waiting

to see Carlisle Sebastian Cullen. His secretary recognized me

and spoke my name into the telephone. My father did not

say 'Show him in'. Instead, the door opened and he came out

to meet me.

'Edward,' he said. His hair was a little greyer and his face

had lost some of its colour. 'Come in, son,' he said.

I walked into his office and sat down opposite him.

For a moment we looked at each other. Then he looked

away, and so did I. I looked at the things on his desk:

the scissors, the pen-holder, the letter-opener, the photos

of my mother and me.

'How have you been, Edward?' he asked.

'Very well, sir . . . Father, I need to borrow fifty thousand dollars.'

He looked hard at me. 'May I know the reason?' he said at last.

'I can't tell you, Father. Just lend me the money. Please.' I said.

I felt that he didn't want to refuse, or argue with me.

He wanted to give me the money, but he also wanted to . . . talk.

'Don't they pay you at Jonas and Marsh?' Carlisle asked.

'Yes, sir.' I said. So he knows where I work, I thought.

He probably knows how much they pay me too.

'And doesn't Bella teach too?' Carlisle asked me.

Well, I thought, he doesn't know everything.

'Please leave Bella out of this, Father. This is a personal

matter. A very important personal matter.'

'Have you got some girl in trouble?' he asked quietly.

'Yes,' I lied. 'That's it. Now give me the money. Please.'

I think he knew that I was lying. But I don't think he

wanted to know my real reason for wanting the money.

He was asking because he wanted to . . . talk.

He took out his check book and opened it slowly. Not

to hurt me, I'm sure, but to give himself time. Time to find

things to say. Things that would not hurt the two of us.

He finished writing the check, took it out of the check

book and held it out towards me. When I did not reach out

my hand to take it, he pulled back his hand and placed the

check on his desk. He looked at me again. Here it is, Edward,

the look on his face seemed to say. But still he did not speak.

I did not want to leave, either. But I couldn't think of

anything painless to say. And we couldn't sit there, wanting

to talk but unable to look at each other.

I picked up the check and put it carefully into my shirt

pocket. I got up and went towards the door. I wanted to

thank my father for seeing me, when several important

people were waiting outside his office. If I want, I thought,

he will send his visitors away, just to be with me . . . I wanted

to thank him for that, but the words refused to come. I stood

there with the door half open, and at last I managed to look

at him and say:

'Thank you, Father.'

* * *

Then I had to tell Charlie Swan. He did not cry or say

anything. He quietly closed his house in Cranston and came

to live in our flat. We all have ways of living with our

troubles. Some people drink too much. Charlie cleaned the flat,

again and again. Perhaps he thought Bella would come

home again. Poor Charlie.

Next I telephoned old man Jonas. I told him the truth why I could

not come into the office. I kept the conversation short

because I knew he was unhappy. He wanted to say things to

me, but he could not find the words. I knew all about that.

* * *

Charlie and I lived for hospital visiting hours. The rest of life

- eating and sleeping (or not sleeping) - meant nothing to us.

One day, in the flat, I heard Charlie saying, very quietly,

'I can't take this much longer.' I did not answer him. I just

thought to myself, I can take it. Dear God, I can take it as

long as You want - because Bella is Bella…and she's still here.

That evening, Bella sent me out of her room. She wanted

to speak to her father, 'man to man'. 'But don't go too far

away,' she added.

I went to sit outside. Then Charlie appeared. 'Bella wants to

see you now,' he said.

* * *

'Close the door,' Bella ordered. I went to sit by her bed.'

I always liked to sit beside her and look at her face, because

it had her beautiful chocolate eyes shining in it.

'It doesn't hurt, Edward, really,' Bella said. 'It's like falling off

a high building very slowly - you know?'

Something moved deep inside me. I am _not _going to cry,

I said to myself. I'm strong, OK? And strong men don't cry!

But if I'm not going to cry, then I can't open my mouth.

'Mm,' I said.

'No, you don't know, Fratboy,' Bella said. 'You've never

fallen off a high building in your life.'

'Yes, I have.' My voice came back. 'I did when I met you.'

She smiled. 'Who cares about Paris?' Bella said suddenly.

'Paris, music, all that. You think you stole it from me, don't

you? I can see it in your face. Well, I don't care, you stupid

Fratboy. Can't you accept that?'

'No,' I answered honestly.

'Then get out of here!' Bella said angrily. 'I don't want you

at my damn death-bed.'

'OK, I accept it,' I lied to her.

'That's better. Now - Will you do something for me?' Bella asked.

From somewhere inside me came this sudden, violent need to cry.

But I was strong. I was _not _going to cry.

'Mm,' I said again.

'Will you please hold me, Edward?' Bella asked me.

I put my hand on her arm - oh God, she was so thin – and held it.

'No, Edward,' Bella said. 'Really hold me. Put your arms round me.'

Very, very carefully I got onto the bed and put my arms round her.

'Thanks, Edward.'

Those were Bella's last words.

* * *

Charlie Swan was waiting outside. 'Charlie?' I said softly.

He looked up and I think he already knew.

I walked over and put my hand on his arm.

'I won't cry,' Charlie said quietly. 'I'm going to be strong for

you. I promised Bella.' He touched my hand very gently.

But I had to be alone. To feel the night air. To take a walk,

perhaps.

Downstairs, the entrance hall of the hospital was very

calm and quiet. The only noise was the sound of my

footsteps on the hard floor.

'Edward!'

It was my father. Except for the woman at the desk, we

were all alone there. I could not speak to him.

I went straight towards the door.

But in a moment Carlisle was out there, standing beside me.

'Edward,' he said. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

It was very cold. That was good, because I wanted to feel

_something. _My father continued to speak to me, while I

stood still and felt the cold wind on my face.

'I heard this evening when I called your office,' Carlisle said.

I jumped into the car at once.' he finished.

I was not wearing a coat. The cold was starting to make

me ache. Good. Good.

'Edward,' said my father. 'I want to help.'

'Bella's dead,' I told him.

'I'm sorry,' he said in a stunned whisper.

I don't know why I did it. But I repeated Bella's words

from long ago.

'Love is forgiveness.'

Then I did something which I had never done in my father's

presence, much less in his arms.

I cried.


	8. Chapter 8

The Loss of Love

All through an empty place I go,  
And find her not in any room;  
The candles and the lamps I light  
Go down before a wind of gloom.

Thick-spraddled lies the dust about,  
A fit, sad place to write her name  
Or draw her face the way she looked  
That legendary night she came.

I have no will to weep or sing,  
No least desire to pray or curse;  
The loss of love is a terrible thing;  
They lie who say that death is worse

-by Countee Cullen


End file.
